With eight months in Songea and a term-and-a-half of teaching under my belt, I’d say I have a pretty decent grasp of the “Songea Boys’ Experience”: what gets taught and by whom, the typical schedule of the average student, and special events that may or may not disrupt the flow of the average school day. Although there’s a fair bit of turnover, I’ve learned most of my fellow teachers’ names, and I’ve even bonded somewhat with some of the smarter kids in my classes, enough so that they aren’t afraid to come up and ask questions after class or ask for homework help during office hours (I hate when they knock on my door at 6am though). Indeed, for the most part, things go fairly smoothly here: I get my hours in, and all of my classes are, in fact, progressing through the syllabus.
That being said, no job comes without difficulties, and no Peace Corps experience is complete without moments of excruciating, aneurysm-inducing frustration. While I do, in fact, enjoy teaching at Songea Boys’ overall, I also get frustrated a lot here---not so much with the students (which I think is more of an O-level problem) as with the teachers, the school, and the system as a whole… all of it exacerbated by the sleep deprivation and general fatigue that comes with teaching a full schedule.
And yes, my schedule is indeed full. I don’t think I’ve quite made this clear in earlier posts, but I actually work pretty hard here: I teach three classes, ~180 students each, over two different A-level subjects, each period lasting 1 hour and 20 minutes, three periods a day, five days a week. This means that, every week, I spend a good 20 hours simply talking… it’s straight-up impossible to have group work in a giant lecture hall, just as it’s impossible to encourage class discussion amongst a group of students with limited English. Add in additional time giving homework help, holding lab practical sessions afterhours, writing lecture notes, typing tests/problem sets, solving tests/problem sets, grading tests/problem sets, assisting in various Peace Corps activities (the income generation empowerment training grant proposal I’m writing up, the monthly PSDN newsletter I’m trying to cobble together, etc.), a mildly strenuous workout routine (I’m going to try to at least run the Kilimanjaro half-marathon next year), and daily household chores (cooking, cleaning, laundry etc.), and I simply have NO time to spare. Heck, the only reason I’m describing my work situation so thoroughly and eloquently in this blog post right now is because I’m procrastinating grading the ridiculous pile of midterm tests that’s currently burning a hole in my desk back home.
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| My "to-do" pile. Look upon it and know fear. |
As a result, if I may take this moment to kvetch a bit, I find the overall lack of organization at Songea Boys’ to be incredibly frustrating. I mean, here I am, working my butt off, and everything around me is just a giant, disorganized mess. For example, in theory, all the teachers are supposed to adhere to a set timetable to teach classes, which is drafted by the administrative office for each term. In practice, however, getting your students to assemble for a particular lecture is always a giant sh*tstorm of conflicting schedules: there are only two rooms on campus that are big enough to hold more than 150 students at a time, and teachers are always showing up late for their classes, spontaneously changing when the class is held to suit their personal needs, or simply blowing off their class, leaving a large number of confused students milling around outside the classroom. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve run around campus gathering my students for my pre-scheduled lecture, only to find that both lecture rooms are already occupied by teachers who showed up an hour late and are now trying to make up for lost time during my period. I mean, I know the culture is different here, but that’s just straight-up unprofessional, and I hate teaching my classes in the tiny classrooms, where my students literally have to sit on each other’s laps or climb up on the windows to get a good look at the blackboard. Moreover, if they’re teaching my students, I have to take time out of my schedule to teach overtime in the afternoon or evening, which has led to many a missed lunch or late night. And yes, I’ve sometimes just gotten fed-up and gatecrashed a teacher’s session, but I try not to do that often because that’s a surefire way to make enemies among the staff here.
Of course, this problem somewhat solved itself in June, during which time I was literally only one of three teachers who was actually teaching. This was then followed by the first two weeks of July, when I was literally the only teacher teaching on campus. This doesn’t mean that there weren’t any other teachers present at school during this time---far from it---but for whatever inexplicable reason, literally every other A-level teacher at Songea Boys simply stopped teaching students around the first week of June. It’s incredible: they simply stopped doing what they were paid to do. I mean, that’s just lazy, and it’s pretty irresponsible, given how profoundly screwed these kids are for the NECTAs (again, it’s not the intelligence of the students that’s in question, it’s that the NECTAs are incredibly unfair). Regardless, many of the teachers here routinely see me sprint by them with my books when I’m late to class and come back from the classroom exhausted and covered in chalk when I’m done; they hear me whine about how much work I have to do on a daily basis; they see me miss lunch regularly because I’m too busy helping students with their schoolwork… and no matter how much I (admittedly) try to guilt them into going to class, there’s simply no reaction and no shame. (Incidentally, sticking around and helping students with homework or simply having an afternoon class will pretty much guarantee that you’ll miss chai break or lunch, and that is very frustrating. It’s like getting punished for working harder.)
Now, to be totally fair, there are teachers on both sides of the spectrum here. The secondmaster is a hard worker, and he’s helped me out a lot with regard to my living situation as well as my various teaching problems. There’s another teacher who teaches at three different schools, six periods a day, five days a week, and, naturally, he makes me look like a lazy piece of crap by comparison. Even the plumber has been awesome, helping me fix both of my flooding incidents (yeah, there was a second one) with relative speed. Still, though, on the other end of the spectrum, you have the less effectual employees---like the guy who took the one class he teaches, scheduled all his periods on a Monday, and then doesn’t teach them---who simply go through the motions of showing up and signing the clock-in book, but don’t actually do any work. And, as much as I hate to admit it, it seems to me that these individuals are a bit more numerous than the hard workers, which leads to a general aura of lethargy and ambivalence at Songea Boys’. (Personally, I refuse to sign the clock-in book on principle, because everyone just lies about when they show up anyways).
This lack of enthusiasm and general disorganization can have a serious effect on a number of important school functions, such as the midterm examinations, which were supposed to occur the week before I left for Dar the second time (i.e. before the one-week school break in June when I was gone for the 50th). The administration set deadlines for A-level teachers to turn in their exams to the academic office, and, accordingly, I hauled ass to get my papers in on time before I left for PSDN training in Dar. When I got back, it turned out that I was the only teacher to turn in his exams at all, and that midterms would have to be postponed until after the break. After returning from the 50th celebration in Dar, I found out that still no one had turned in their midterms, and, in fact, most A-level teachers were still out of town and thus could not turn in their midterms until the following week. As a result, we finally ended up doing midterms the week of the 11th---four weeks after the originally-intended period. I mean, if we’re caning students for being five minutes late for morning parade, what kind of example are we setting if we can’t even turn in a midterm examination until four weeks after we’re supposed to?
By the way, if I may complain about one last thing, I hate, hate, HATE it whenever the other teachers elect to skip class and watch the Tanzanian parliamentary sessions on TV. It’s not just that the Tanzanian parliamentary sessions are incredibly long-winded and boring (they really are); it’s that the teachers laugh and poke fun at the politicians and have a grand old time, saying that these fat cats are lazy, ineffectual, and don’t know what’s best for the country… meanwhile, their students sit outside the classroom, waiting to be taught. Again, I’m not saying that all the teachers at my school do this, or that my fellow teachers are bad people---a lot of them are actually really cool and have been nothing but nice to me---but the irony of this situation is never lost on me.
So yeah, I’ll admit that most of this blog post has just been me being whiny and nit-picky, but none of these incidents has anything on the Lab Nazi, who is quickly becoming my arch nemesis on campus. In fact, he’s the only teacher whom I actively dislike, aside from the moron who keeps calling me nguruwe ("pig") because my skin is pink and I’m supposedly immune to the cold (I usually retort by calling him a monkey… hooray racism!).
But yeah, as far as the Lab Nazi is concerned, well... he's just not a nice guy. For one, he calls me mzungu a lot, which is a surefire way to piss me off in any situation. I mean, imagine you’d been working your butt off for free in a Latin American school for eight months and a fellow teacher was still calling you gringo and laughing at you when you eat rice… as if no one else eats rice, dumbass… wouldn’t it get irksome after a bit? Maybe I’m a bit oversensitive, but, in my opinion, that’s just kind of an a-hole thing to do (incidentally, if you think it’s weird that people make fun of me for eating rice here, you should see the reaction I get from the local villagers when I ride a bike or try telling them that corn, potatoes, and tomatoes came from South America… or that there's such a thing as South America, for that matter). In any case, though, the Lab Nazi also has a frequent habit of talking as if I weren’t there, and he’s made a number of catty comments about me in Kiswahili while I was literally sitting next to him. Whether he does this out of ignorance or malice, I don’t know, but it’s still pretty annoying.
But I’m getting ahead of myself: the Lab Nazi is head of the physics laboratory at Songea Boys’, and, as such, he’s charged with teaching all the physics practical sessions for Forms I-VI at the school, as well as holding a few theory-oriented sessions for the O-level kids (Forms I-IV). This task is not nearly as daunting as it seems, as most O-level practicals are simple and can be done as demonstrations, most O-level students don’t really need practicals to pass the NECTAs, and the O-level classes are much smaller (~40 kids) and only take up roughly nine 40-minute periods a week (Forms I, II, and IV, three periods a week). As a result, all the Lab Nazi really needs to work hard on is physics practicals for the A-level students, particularly the Form VI kids since they have the end-all-be-all NECTAs at the end of their 2nd term (i.e. next January).
So, the real core of this guy’s d-baggery is his pronounced, adamant---and, in some ways, almost defiant---laziness. The simple fact of the matter is that he doesn’t do any of the above, but, at the same time, he won’t let me take over any of his responsibilities. I’ve repeatedly asked to take over teaching his lab classes for him since the A-level students (especially the Form VI kids) need to be taught practicals, but he interprets that as an insult to his intelligence and work ethic, and he promptly rebukes me. When I tell him, fine, then how about you go teach your damn classes, he begins whining and complaining that he has so much work and simply no time to teach everything so he can’t do it. I simply can’t win with this guy, and, while I would be totally cool with ignoring his bitching and teaching the necessary labs anyway, he has the key to the laboratory, so I can’t get in or use any of the lab’s resources without asking him. As a result, I must resort to diplomacy, like the meeting I had with him and my academic master last week:
Lab Nazi: [to the academic master, in Kiswahili] “So, what does the mzungu want this time?”
Me: “Hey, mwafrika [‘African’], I’m sitting right here.”
Academic Master: “So, according to what Paul has told me, you haven’t been teaching the lab practicals to the A-level students. Is this correct, Paul?”
Me: “Yes. My Form VI students have unanimously told me that they have been taught only three practicals over the past year-and-a-half, and they are growing increasingly worried about the mock NECTA examinations, which are coming up at the end of August. I’d like to see if [Lab Nazi] would allow me to use the school’s lab to teach the Form VI classes for him, to ensure that the necessary material is covered before the deadline.”
LN: “No! That is not acceptable. I only have one key to the laboratory, and I need it to get into my office.”
Me: “Well, maybe you could leave the key in the administration building when you’re not at school, so that I can still access the lab while you’re away. Or, better yet, we could make a second key that lets me into your lab, and you can lock your office, which I know is in a different room inside the building with its own lock.”
LN: “I still cannot do that. The laboratory is my space; I am responsible for its maintenance and cleanliness.” [in Kiswahili, to the academic master] “Do you really want him to teach practicals? He’s just some dumb mzungu kid!”
Me: “Again, I can understand you.”
AM: “Mzungu or not, these classes need to be taught. One of you has to do this. Normally, [Lab Nazi], I would want you to do this because you have more than ten years of experience. But, if you have no time…”
LN: “I don’t have any time! I work so hard… there’s simply no time to teach all of my periods.”
Me: “Then let me teach the practicals. I WANT TO TEACH THE PRACTICALS. I AM GIVING YOU FREE LABOR. I JUST NEED THE FREAKING KEY TO THE LAB.”
LN: “No! I can’t allow that. I have much more experience and I know what I’m doing much more than this mzungu.”
Me: “Yes, but if you don’t teach your classes at all, then your ten years of experience isn’t worth much, is it?”
LN: [in Kiswahili, to the academic master] “Doesn’t Paul already teach 30 periods a week? Isn’t that the school limit?” [Note: Technically, each period is 40 minutes, so I teach double periods]
AM: “Hm… you’re right. We can’t have Paul teaching more than the maximum; it would be too hard, and the quality of his teaching would decrease.” [to me] “So how about this: Mr. [Lab Nazi] will continue teaching the Form VI lab practicals, and if you want to do extra sessions, you can just ask Mr. [Lab Nazi] for the key. Does this sound fair?”
Me: “You realize that this doesn’t help me at all. He’s only here two days a week, tops. And what if he goes on break? Then how will I get the key?”
LN: “Um, excuse me, I am always here at the school.”
Me: “You were just on break. For two months! You missed seven weeks of classes!”
AM: “Paul, I really don’t see any other option here. We can’t have you teaching more than 30 periods a week, and Mr. [Lab Nazi] is the only other person qualified to teach the lab practicals. Therefore, he will continue teaching the Form VI practicals and you can get the key from him whenever you want.”
LN: “I think that’s for the best, Mr. Academic Master.”
Me: “Can he at least tell me his general teaching schedule for the next month or so, so I can maybe possibly think about tailoring my classes to discuss the relevant material at the time he’s teaching the lab?”
AM: “Can you, Mr. [Lab Nazi]?”
LN: [pause] “No.”
AM: “That’s okay. Just do your job, Mr. Paul, and let Mr. [Lab Nazi] do his.”
Me: [in Chinese] “You are all retards.”
AM: “Pardon?”
Incidentally, the academic master isn’t my favorite person at the school, either.
So yeah, despite the fact that Songea Boys’ has one of the cleanest, most well-stocked physics laboratories in the area, I simply can’t use it. This hasn’t stopped me entirely; I’ve been able to pull together some basic practical sessions at night using stuff I can find around town (water bottles, syringes, string, copper wire, batteries, light bulbs, etc.), but it’s a real shame that I can’t use, you know, glassware, professionally-manufactured springs, thermometers that didn’t come in my medkit, incremental weights that aren’t simply sand wrapped in a plastic bag, etc. Let it be known that this struggle is ongoing, and, one day, I WILL be able to use the laboratory resources, even if I have to break in and steal said resources under cover of darkness.
What IS good is that, as of yesterday, the Lab Nazi has finally begun to teach physics practicals to my Form VI kids, after much coaxing from the secondmaster (that’s right, I went above your head, bwana!). In truth, all this procrastination has put the kids in a bit of a bind, as they have roughly three weeks to learn ~2 years’ worth of physics experiments, but I guess it’s better than nothing. Moreover, I fully intend to continue holding night sessions during the month of August, although I’m quickly running out of ideas for experiments using improvised teaching materials… water bottles and copper wire will only get you so far. The only real problem that I’m experiencing right now is that the Lab Nazi has decided to completely disregard the schedule, yanking the Form VI students out of all their regular classes and forcing them into day-long, deathmarch practical sessions in a desperate attempt to catch up with the syllabus… which, naturally, results my Form VI physics class being virtually unattended. I’m gonna have to talk to him about that, too.
In any case, sorry for the whiny post. I figured that the last few additions to the blog were full of whimsical journeys and delightful misadventures, so it was time for a bit of a reality check. Again, I must stress that I do like my school, I do like teaching, and, by and large, progress is being made here. But like all things, Songea Boys’ isn’t perfect, and, on rare occasions, I feel that it isn’t indecent of me to vent my frustrations… in moderation, naturally. But rest assured: there will still be plenty of whimsical journeys and delightful misadventures to be had in the coming months… I mean, if I’m having this much fun only a third of the way into my service, who knows what’ll happen in the remainder of my time here?
